


can i please just end it now?

by thickeyebrows



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Betty Cooper Loves Jughead Jones, Bughead!, Depression, F/M, Past Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Riverdale, Suicidal Betty Cooper, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, depressed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-06-08 03:17:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15234153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thickeyebrows/pseuds/thickeyebrows
Summary: Betty Cooper thought what she was doing was something that would keep everyone from harm. She thought that it was that simple. But she thought wrong.All hell broke loose the day after the Jubilee and it was all her fault. The life of Betty turned from bad to worse. It was only a matter of time when the worst came.





	1. I'm Selfish

I SAT IN THE COLD, LITTLE BATHROOM of my silent bedroom, quietly sobbing. My tears just kept coming even if I tried stopping them. My chest felt heavy, my mind was shattered, my body was sore.

As I suppressed a sob it only worsened my situation as I let out a wail. Like broken glass, my tears kept falling from my eyelids, dropping onto my open wounds. It stung, it pained me. But that was nothing compared to what I held deep down inside my heart.

My memories kept bringing me back the night when the Jubilee happened when I said my speech. The speech that inspired the Black Hood to show his true colors. And because of that, I'd damaged the friendship that I had with Veronica. Those awful and absurd words that I'd told her. To which deep down, I knew that a part of me meant every single word.

Not only did I lose my best friend, but also the person that I'd truly loved and cared for, more so than I'd ever done to my family. He was family. Jughead was my family, not until-- But I had to. I needed to, to protect him.

All that has happened finally lead me to break. I took it so far with me that I started cutting myself. But that was just for relief. I've done worse. I wasted my money buying 'happy pills' from the pharmacy. I rummaged through our basement to find a rope. Nevertheless, I always end up staring. I'd be staring at the pills. I'd be staring at the noose.

I can't bring myself to swallow. I can't push the stool that supported and prevented me from falling. I just couldn't bring myself on doing it.

I want him. I want him back in Riverdale High. I want him to spend his free time with us like it used to be. I want him to look at me in the eye, but not with disgust lingering in them. I want him by my side.

'I want'. It's always about what I wanted, not what he wanted or needed. It was always about me. It's so selfish of me that it makes me want to vomit. Now I know why he always looked at me like that.

But so what? I deserve it.

I always wanted to be perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect sister, the perfect student, the perfect girlfriend. But in the end, it only led me to being the perfect person that I always wanted to be to no avail.


	2. I'm Just Saying Maybe

MAYBE I WAS JUST EXHAUSTED. Maybe I was too embarrassed. Maybe I was just tired of that school, seeing the faces that I know would judge me just as hard as they would judge a book. Or maybe I was just sick and tired of everything.

I didn't bother wasting my time spending hours in those classes that taught me what I already knew. Instead, I sat in the booth on the very corner of Pop's, taking in the cozy smell of vanilla and burgers. I stared at the empty booth where I and my friends would always hang out in, just thinking about sitting there made my insides flip. But that's all in the past.

There was no point in reminiscing about those joyful times when there was no murder of Jason Blossom, no Black Hood, and no Veronica. Veronica. That's right. Maybe she's the one that caused all the misfortune that has happened to me. Ever since her arrival in Riverdale, series of unfortunate events occurred. Maybe if she didn't force me to confess my feelings for Archie. Maybe if she didn't go into that closet that night.   
Then all of this probably wouldn't have happened. This was all her fault--

No, it's not. This is all Jughead's fault. If he'd never joined the Blue and Gold. If he'd never showed up at my bedroom window pretending to be Romeo. If he'd never kissed me. If he'd never been by my side at my darkest times. Maybe all of this wouldn't have happened.

Who am I kidding? Why do I always put the blame on someone else's shoulders when it's not even theirs to carry.

I keep running away from my problems because I'm done pretending to even care anymore. I'm done pretending that I could always make up a solution for every problem I face. That's just me being childish and foolish. No wonder Jughead got sick of me that easily.

My eyes were heavy and I was starting to doze off. My mind kept wandering back when it all began, back on the first day of the semester. It was the first time I've ever met Veronica. The memory of me being discreetly jealous over the fact that Archie was ogling over Little Miss Brat from the city made me hysterical. I would never have been jealous over something like that if the present me were to be in the kind of situation. Heck, I fell in love with the last person I thought I would, Jughead. Who cares anyway?

Just as I was about to fall asleep, the bell that indicated that someone was coming in, rang wildly in my ears. I shot my eyes wide open, feeling my eyelids slip away from my grasp. Well, that was until I saw those eyes.

Those drowning eyes stared at me for no more than a split second.

I swiftly grabbed my stuff, walking along the isle of what felt like shame. I pulled my sleeves down, almost ripping the cloth. I wondered what would be his reaction if he ever saw my scarred arms. He would be revolted, or even more so.

My hands were on the doorknob, clinging to the last thread of hope that he would call my name and welcome me back with open arms. But he didn't. This wasn't some kind of fairy tale that would, unnecessarily, have the happiest ending. This was my life. And my life was a story of how I, the main character, would always run away from my problems as much as possible.

Just like now. How pathetic.


	3. I'm Not Feeling Well

I WAS DEBATING WHETHER OR NOT I should go to school. I wasn't feeling very well.

When I woke up, I was feeling very heavy, and by the time I was all prepared and ready to go my breathing slowed down I began losing my breath. When I got down the stairs I felt like collapsing and my parents noticed, asking me questions like: "Are you okay?" or "Can you go to school?". I kept saying 'yes' but really what I wanted to say was 'no'. I wasn't feeling okay. 

Without a word, I went back to my room, took my shoes off and plopped on the bed, wrapping the coldest blanket I've ever had. My eyes were so heavy and I could fall asleep at any moment, but my lack of oxygen kept pulling me back to my consciousness. Whenever I would start dozing off I would feel, or imagine myself not breathing and I'd bolt up, start breathing again then repeat the process until I could actually fall asleep.  
   

My lips were chapped and my whole body was numb. I couldn't open my eyes, not until I'd finish eavesdropping on my parents' conversation behind my closed bedroom door. 

"I feel like she's acting up again."

"She's not. Don't you see how she's having a hard time right now?"

"But this isn't like her!"

"I know, Alice. I know."

"Everyday, when she comes home from school, she'd just go lock herself in her room. She doesn't eat dinner anymore, not even breakfast! Heck, do we even know if she attends her classes anymore."

My eyes opened wide as my mother began sobbing. I could imagine her sobbing into my father's chest.

I began mentally questioning myself: Since when have I ever been so transparent that my insensitive of a mother started seeing through me. I wondered if the thought of me cutting myself or attempting suicide ever entered that brain of hers.

Anxiety was feeding onto me. I wouldn't know what to do if she actually found out about it. Would she hug me? Maybe yell at me? I don't know.

My breathing, once again, hitched and I wanted the feel of relief. So I locked my bedroom door, tip-toed my way to my bathroom, closing the door before meeting again with my faithful best friend, the razor. The sharp tantalizing blade screamed my name, and I immediately, harshly slashing one big part of my arm then another, and another, and another.

The red liquid called blood desperately escaped my flesh and spilled on my white tiled floor, repainting it with the fresh color of crimson.

Again, I didn't bother wrapping my arms after washing them. Because why the fuck not?

The cold eyes of my reflection stared back at me as if examining me.

I was fat and ugly. My eyes were too big. My hair wasn't blonde enough. My lips were too pink and they weren't plump enough. Pathetic. Not like my sister. She's perfect. I hate her. I hate this mirror. I hate seeing the fact that I, being myself, wasn't enough for the people to like me. I hate forcing myself into a crowd that I'm not supposed to be a part of. I hate myself. For being weak. For being such a fake. For having a life to live.

My hands, having their own minds, rummaged through my medicine box. My happy pills stared at me as if it had eyes, greeting me that it was nice to see me again. Happy pills. Happy pills my fucking ass.


	4. I'm Hollow

IT WAS POURING OUTSIDE. I was tucked inside one of the cozy classrooms of Riverdale High. A very thick and warm sweater protected me from the cold, and my arms from being unraveled, but I felt like freezing still. The classroom was packed yet it felt so empty and lonely.

I was sitting at the very back of the classroom so that not one person would notice me. The feeling of isolation grew on to me even more than I ever thought it would. The teacher won't be able to notice me if I fell asleep or use my phone. He'd be too busy pampering up the diligent listeners. And so I slouched and stared at the window pane, tracing the water droplets that rolled down the glass. It reminded me of tears. They just keep flowing out once you start letting them break you.

The teacher's voice began irritating me as I wanted my silent thoughts undisturbed. He just couldn't shut his mouth for one second. What am I even thinking? Of course, he can't do that. He was teaching, explaining stuff that I probably already know. This is so stupid, pretending to be some sort of genius. I'm not smart. So why am I beginning to think of myself so highly? Because no one does. So I give in to my lust for lies.

"Class dismissed. "Make sure to review the notes I've given. Pop quiz tomorrow, your scores will be recorded. Not that it's not."  
And with that, the teacher strode off the class, probably headed to the faculty or whatever.

I grabbed my notebook instead and scribbled down any words that would pop into my head, it was a temporary replacement for cutting. I wouldn't be able to cut myself in this place. People would see what's behind this perky facade of mine. It would, no doubt, disgust them.

The scribbles that I wrote turned out to be some kind of message... or a poem? I don't know. But its words contained no emotion and I felt like staring out into the void. Once again, I was disappointed with myself. I crumpled the piece of paper and flicked it off my desk.

A moment of silence, then the bell rang.

My classmates began rushing out the room as if there was a fire going on. They were too excited. I envy them. I hate them. I hate that they feel at least the slightest bit of excitement from just a class ending, while I'm here, watching them just to fill out my boredom.

Once that every single person was gone, I packed my things. It slightly bothered me that Archie, probably the only friend I have left, didn't even bother waiting for me. I don't care. I just want to go home and have my relief.

"Ah, Miss Cooper. Just the person I was looking for." I jerked my head up as I lazily stood up with my bag slung over my shoulder.

"After lunch, can you please spare me a few minutes of your time and meet me at the principal's office? We'd like to have a word."

I didn't even make second thoughts on not putting it into consideration and just nodded just so that I could leave.

I was hungry. No. I was starving. I haven't been eating for a few days and it made me feel like crap. I was dying for some food but this pride of mine told me otherwise. So I just passed by the cafeteria, because I know that if I entered that place, I would eat. I don't want that. More so now that I caught a glimpse of Archie, sitting together with Veronica and... Jughead. He was there laughing at what Veronica had to say. What was he doing here? He shouldn't be here. He should be where he belongs. But I love Jughead. I love him with all my heart and I can't bear having to be separated from him. Then why am I not there? Because they don't want me there. He doesn't want me there. He doesn't love me that's why.

Since I didn't have better things to do, I went to Principal Weatherbee's office, my mind refreshing as I heard the muffled but loud roar of thunder from outside. I could only imagine how it was possible for Sweetwater River to overflow and flood the whole of Riverdale, washing away the sinners.

All my thoughts vanished once I heard the principal's voice.

"Come in." And so I did. "So, Betty..." Principal Weatherbee trailed. My adviser by his side with disappointment emitting off of his eyes. "We'd like to know what's going on with your recent behavior."


	5. I'm Jealous

THE CROWD ROARED WILD as Archie took one last bow before heading off to the backstage. The music blasted its deafening sounds even louder, almost breaking my eardrums. But I couldn't care less.

My heart was pounding and my chest felt like being squeezed to a pulp. It was almost my turn. Just three days ago Principal Weatherbee told me in 'advance' that there was an event being held on Friday, that was today, and it was those for whose grades were so low that they would desperately need some backup. And this was it. Three days ago I was called down to the principal's office to converse about my recent behavior and how my grades went for a huge downfall. The whole talk was better off called as an interrogation, and they did inform me how to lift my grades up even the slightest bit. The 'interrogation' was a bothersome I almost fell asleep.

And now I'm here, sitting on the backstage, waiting for the long nervewracking speech Cheryl was giving. Her voice annoyed me. The way she spoke annoyed me. How she flicked her luscious red hair gracefully over her shoulder annoyed me. In fact, everything about her was annoying. She's so perfect that it makes me sick.

And as the crowd once again cheered like thunder, Cheryl averted her gaze to mine. Her blood red painted lips called me up to the stage with the fakest of smiles.

The last time I went upstage was on that night of the Jubilee when I inspired a person to go on a killing spree. I wanted to run away as far as I could. I wanted to hide from the world, dig my own grave and call myself dead. But why can't I do it? Because all the people's eyes were fixed on me? Because they'd witness what I'd do and leave the impression of being a coward? I wasn't because of them. I didn't care what they would think of me. No. It was because he was there, Jughead. His eyes, like everyone else's, were fixed onto me. They were opened ever so slightly that needless to say that he wanted this whole event to be over. Much rather, my performance.

I hated being the center of attention. Especially at a time like this.

I wanted to burst into tears, scream at everyone's faces the disgusting truth about Bett Cooper. But I didn't. Instead, I took three steps forward to reach the keyboard that was there the whole time. One deep breath and I placed my shaking fingers on the cold surface of the keyboard. I wasn't prepared for this. Not at all. I didn't have time to practice because I forgot all about this event. It made me so anxious that I wanted to die. When did I not?

So I pressed the keys that instinctively placed my fingers on. It was a piece that I recognized so well. It was the one and only piece that I knew of the piano.

"I'm jealous of the rain That falls upon your skin  
It's closer than my hands have been  
I'm jealous of the rain

"I'm jealous of the wind  
That ripples through your clothes  
It's closer than your shadow  
Oh, I'm jealous of the wind

"'Cause I wished you the best of  
All this world could give  
And I told you when you left me  
There's nothing to forgive

"But I always thought you'd come back, tell me all you found was  
Heartbreak and misery  
It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way  
You're happy without me."

This all started with a crappy poem that I wrote for him and for him only. No one in this room would ever feel the raging emotions because the message is only for him to receive. And I hoped that it had reach him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is Jealous by Labyrinth. A guy (I forgot his name, sorry) sang this in an xfactor audition. It was for his late best friend and I couldn't help but tear up. It reminded me of my own best friend. Well, we're not in contact anymore but I still love her. I miss her :'(
> 
> Let your friends know that you love them. They're your friends. Know that they love and care for you as well. Don't ever take your loved ones for granted!
> 
> Have a great day guys. Take care :)


	6. Is This the End?

I WAS RUNNING. The gravel under my feet crushed like bones with every step I took. The heavens above cried as much as I did, roaring out a thunder while I screamed out my depression. The voices in my head kept telling me to wake up. But how? How can I wake up from this cruel reality?

There was no mistake that when he looked at me dead in the eyes, he wanted me gone. The disgust, the hatred they were pouring endlessly from the eyes that once looked at me full of love. I knew this was to be expected. But why did I still hope for the best? Because I'm selfish.

Finally, Sweetwater River. The sound of light waves sent chills down my spine. I was finally ready to meet the same fate as Jason Blossom but in a whole new different way.

Digging into my pocket for my 'happiness'. A packet of pills. I remembered clearly that this was the first ever pills that I bought. A full bottle, it was untouched. I was saving it when the time was ready.

I downed the pills along with everything else. Instantly I regret it. But I knew there was no turning back.

In a small amount of time, the effect started kicking in so I had to run as far as I could to the deepest part of the lake.

They didn't even come for me, tell me to stop, and that they want me to be alright, that they'll be right beside me no matter what.

"But they didn't!" I screamed with all the strength in me, silently hoping that they would hear my call for help. But they didn't.


	7. What?

"PLEASE..." A VOICE SAID, desperation clear in his voice. "Please, wake up." What do you mean?

My voice, why was it so silent? Why was it so dark and cold? Why can I not feel anything?

The voice gave a sniffle, almost as if he was crying. He? It wasn't the first time I'd heard it. It was so familiar. But I couldn't pinpoint who. Who was this person? Why was he sad? Was it because of me? Why though?

I didn't know how long I'd stayed in the dark, wondering when I will eventually wake up. I didn't have anything much better to do but listen to the voices around me.

"When do think she'll wake up?" A girl asked. She sounded worried.

"Soon, V. Soon." A different guy answered.

"Whatever." The voice from before said, irritated.

"What is your problem, Jughead?"

"I don't know, Archie. How 'bout you? You keep saying she'll wake up soon. When is that? Five years? Ten?" The desperation in his voice was thick and clear. It was obvious that he was on the verge of breaking. "Wake up, Archie! We are not inside your head where everything goes the way you want it to be!"

"Oh? So you're saying this is my fault? Remember, Jughead, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't a bitch who couldn't face a real man's problem."

"How in the--? Well, I wasn't the one who let her get shot. You did!"

Shot? I was shot? The voices became blurry and once again it was silent. I didn't even notice that it was so bright. That the blurred voices now had bodies and faces. Everything felt so overwhelming, it was hard to process in just five seconds.

I felt my lungs burn and my head squeeze in an inhuman manner, I was hyperventilating. It wasn't long 'till people in coats of white came bursting into the room, tending to me or asking questions that I couldn't quite make out. Where am I? Who are these people? What are they doing to me? After a short moment of almost dying, I was finally coming back to my senses.

"Betty? Can you hear me?" The guy asked, holding my hand softly. "Betty, My name's Doctor Scave. How are you feeling?"

I couldn't give an honest answer. What was I feeling?

"Where am I?"

"You're at the hospital."

"What? How?"

"Upon discovering Joseph Svenson's true motives, you were shot unintentionally on the side of your skull." He brought his hand up to his temple, showing the place where I'd been shot. "You were brought here by Archie Andrews, your said companion that night. Do you recall?"

My head hurt. My body was sore. I was confused. I wanted to ask him if this was all true. Because it seemed to me that it wasn't. I was a girl that had depression. I was a girl who had planned on killing herself for a long time but couldn't do it anyway. I was a girl who cut her wrists for relief, downs half a bottle of pills but ends up vomiting it all.

"When did that happen?" I asked, too desperately.

"Almost five months now."

The doors once again burst open as a pair of eyes stared at me with a clouded sight of worry, thick drops of tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

"Betty! You're awake." He came rushing to me, burying his face in my neck as he hugged me.

Doctor Scave wore a warm smile while I stared at him in confusion.

"I'll give you a moment." He stood and left.

Jughead had a goofy but relieved smile on his face. He was the guy that told me to wake up.

"I'm so glad you're awake. I always knew you're a fighter. Don't leave me like that again."

I scooted inches away from him. "I don't know you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME. YOU HAVE MADE IT TO THE END
> 
> ps  
> Dr. Scave is a made up character!
> 
> Merry Christmas Everyone!!!!!


End file.
